You Had Me at Hockey (Bears Hockey #2) - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,75

and I cut up the cooked chicken to add to the bowls.

Then we spend a couple of hours playing Animal Crossing, before ending up in my bed.

“Can you stay the night?” I ask much later, my lips against her temple as we curl up naked beneath the covers.

“Yeah. I brought a few things.”

I smile. “Perfect.”

* * *

—

It’s another week before I see Sara again because of another road trip. Shit, last week I was in New York all week and she went away. Now she’s back and I’m leaving. This sucks.

But the first game of our trip is in Dallas. Against my old teammates.

This is always a moment. Any player wants to beat his old team. It’s not that I hold a grudge against any of the players; trades have nothing to do with them. Maybe it’s just wanting to show the team what they lost.

I know these guys, and I know their moves. Some of them are friends. That doesn’t stop me from laying a heavy hit on Jonesy, or from shooting top shelf, glove side—their goalie’s weak spot—to score our second goal.

There’s an emotional moment, though, during a TV time-out when they show a montage of clips of me playing in Dallas and thanking me for my contributions to the team, and the fans all give me a standing ovation. I choke up a little, waving from the bench and pressing my hand to my heart.

We manage to squeak out a win, and it’s because Dallas takes a dumb penalty late in the third period and Bergie and I connect on the power play to get the puck into the net. I’m acutely aware, though, that earlier Millsy was right in front of the net, banging his stick, and I elected to pass to JBo. That could also have been a goal. Or not. But it gnaws at me through the rest of the game and after.

I talk to the local media, who all know me from my time there, and I spend a few minutes chatting with Billy and Schultzy before they yell at me to get on the bus to go back to the hotel. We’re staying here tonight and flying to Denver tomorrow ahead of Thursday night’s game. I’m looking forward to a great sleep.

After I talk to Sara, of course.

The video I’m given to watch on the plane the next day has that moment where I don’t pass the puck to Millsy. Shit, he was wide open. I know Coach and Cal, our video coach, have included that clip for a reason.

Yeah, yeah, I’ll talk to him. I just have to find the right time. It’s hard on the road, with other guys around all the time.

We lose in Denver and win in Glendale against the Coyotes. So not a bad road trip, but we’ve got three weeks left in the regular season and we still don’t have a playoff spot locked up. We need every point we can get. We’re helped by losses by the Capitals and Penguins. I study the math on the plane on the way home. If we win our next two games, we’ll have a wild card spot sewn up. If not…I look at various scenarios. Too much depends on what other teams do.

We need to win.

* * *

—

Sunday afternoon, I head over to Sara’s place. The weather is mild, spring flowers are blooming, so we’re going for a walk in Central Park.

When she lets me into her place, though, she’s not even ready. I pull her in for a kiss and it’s listless and halfhearted. “What’s wrong?”

She waves a hand. “Nothing. I’ll go get ready. Sorry. I got lost in Dr. Pimple Popper videos.”

“Something’s wrong. What did I do?” I’m wracking my brain trying to figure out how I screwed up when I’ve been gone for a week. Was it something in one of my texts?

“It’s not you.” She sighs and turns to face me from her bedroom door. “Some douchebag posted a hate video about me on YouTube.”

“Fuck.” I cross straight to her and take hold of her upper arms. “Was it threatening?”

“No.” She shakes her head, her lips drooping. “Just stupid. And mean.”

“I’m sorry.” I pull her against me and press her face to my chest. “You have to ignore that shit.”

“I know. But sometimes it’s not that easy.”

I know this too. I’ve been there. I’ll never forget the time I screwed up in the playoffs for the Dallas farm team one year